


Definitions

by Hekate1308



Series: The Home We've Made [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Inspired by Addams Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Crowley has an idea.





	Definitions

“So this is your shop.“

Dean rolls his eyes. “What is it, Crowley?“

“Can’t someone say hello to his new neighbour?”

“We’re not at home.”

“Hey, I don’t get out much.”

That’s true, Dean thinks somewhat guiltily. While Crowley has the power to beam himself wherever he wants to be, he usually refrains from going anywhere humans could see him. For a demon, he’s rather considerate.

“Want a coffee?”

“Would be nice, thank you.”

Dean stands up. The old Mustang will keep; he can afford a break.

“Nice work” Crowley says, studying the motor.

“How do you know?”

“Immortal, remember? I’ve been around.”

Dean nods. Makes sense to him. These days, anyway.

He makes coffee and Crowley frowns. “Instant?”

“Don’t have anything better in the house, your Highness.”

With a blink, Crowley’s gone, returning with two steaming cups. “Straight from the best coffee house in Vienna. You’re welcome.”

It means something that Crowley was ready to break his rule of not randomly zapping around, buit Dean isn’t sure what.

“I wonder why you’re still focusing in repairing cars when you could easily restore them. Open a bigger shop.”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m doing well enough, but that will have to wait a few more years, I’m afraid...”

“I have more than enough money.”

Dean all but spits his coffee. “You want to be my boss?”

Crowley shrugs. “not really. But I have more money than I will ever need – hell, I can make more – and there’s no reason not to give it to you.”

This has got to be the oddest conversation Dean has ever had, and he had to debate whether or not his love was already strong enough for Cas to live exclusively on once. “But why?”

“Why not?” Crowley shoots back, now looking rather uncomfortable. “Think about it.”

With these words, he disappears.

When Dean returns home that night, it becomes pretty clear he’s not the only one in their streets who’s troubled. There’s a strong storm blowing around Crowley’s house – just Crowley’s house, which means the demon doesn’t want anyone to disturb him. Charlie is watching the trees in his garden, a frown on her face.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” she asks.

“How would I know?” Dean replies as casually as he can.

“You and Cas are pretty close to him, just asking.”

Getting along with a demon neighbour is nowhere near as difficult as it sounds, so Dean’s not entirely sure what she’s trying to say. “Yeah, well... He’ll snap out of it soon enough.”

Cas welcomes him with a kiss as always, but he looks worried. “This has been going on for hours, Charlie told me. Do you know anything? I thought Crowley was in a good mood when I saw him this morning...”

“You, too?” Dean asks. “What are we, the guys babysitters?”

Cas frowns. “No, but we are his friends.”

Dean is starting to think there’s a memo he’s missed. “Yeah, so?”

“Dean” Cas says gently, “You don’t really understand what that means, do you?”

“I am trying here, but it doesn’t make any sense – today Crowley just offered to buy me a shop, and acted all weird when I didn’t jump at the chance –“

Cas kisses him. “You underestimate the effect you have on others, my love.” He hesitates before continuing. “Last week, you called him your friend – and mine, of course, as a logical consequence.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, during our barbeque. Crowley was trying to explain the physics of Hellfire to Gilda, and you said something along the lines of “That’s hardly appropriate for dinner, my friend” even though we usually talk about everything, so I can only assume you spoke in jest, but the “my friend” part sounded rather genuine...”

“I suppose he is. We’ve known him for a few months, now. What a difference does it make?”

“In demon culture, a great one.”

“Demon... What?”

“Dean, you know how every single variety of monsters have their customs. For example, I should be feeding off of innocent humans.”

“Are you saying i’m not innocent?” Dean asks, wriggling his eyebrows.

Cas shakes his head, still looking serious. “Dean... What I am trying to say is... Demons don’t make friends easily. Maybe it’s their reputation, their way of living... they aren’t even friendly with their own kind, at least most of them. And I’ve been talking to Charlie and Gilda... Crowley is respected, but there are precious few who would invite him to their homes –“

“Wait a minute, he’s been to every neighbourhood party since we moved here –“

“There were precious few until they saw that we got along with him. For a demon, being someone’s friend isn’t a fact. It’s an honour. Crowley probably thinks it’s completely normal to pay for your shop, simply because he has the money and you have been kind to him.”

There are so many rules to follow when it comes to monsters. Dean has already learned a tin and is sure to come across a few more in his life; but he never thought that something so simple could derail a demon.

On the other hand – nothing’s normal when it comes to Crowley. And he really has become one of their best friends, Dean suddenly realizes – they seen each other more or less every day, and he’s the first Dean would call in case something magical went array.

He sighs. “I screwed that up, didn’t I.”

“You didn’t know” Cas replies lightly, “And I’m sure Crowley understand.”

Thunder growls next door. “Just how sure are you?”

“Dean, trust me.”

Dean kisses his boyfriend and leaves, hoping for the best.

Man, that’s some storm Crowley’s been brewing up. Maybe it’s not just the whole thing with the shop, maybe his mother’s angry at him again. Perhaps not, though. Dean hasn’t quite figured out what their relationship is like, even a few months into living among the monsters.

He knocks on the door after having fought his way through the weather.

No answer. Probably can’t hear him, with everything that’s going on outside. So Dean simply opens the door and walks in. Crowley, like many of the more dangerous monsters, never locks his door; anyone fool enough to try and steal something wouldn’t make it out of the house anyway.

“Crowley?” he calls out. “It’s me, so please don’t blow me up.”

“In here” he calls out from the living room.

“That’s something you got out there” Dean says, stepping in. “Care to explain?”

“The weather was boring me” the demon tells him, not looking at him.

Dean sighs. “Crowley, I didn’t know.”

“I would have expected you to, with your little Hallmark commercial playing out next door...”

“Just because I live with Cas, doesn’t mean I automatically know everything he knows. But even so... of course you’re our friend, Crowley.”

It hasn’t taken him long to realize that what Crowley must actually be brooding over is that Dean might not have meant it when he said they were friends.

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Sure. Can’t imagine any other drama queen I’d rather have as my neighbour.”

“I think Charlie would make a good one.”

“That cannot be denied” Dean admits, recalling a rather passionate Kirk versus Picard debate (thank God he was with her on the Shatner side of things), “But what I meant is... Crowley, no one has ever given me something as big for a present.”

“It’s not that much” Crowley argues and Dean reminds himself that for a demon who has already lived hundreds of years, it isn’t.

“It seems that way to me, alright? Let me think about it.”

Crowley looks at him an cocks his head to the side. “Drink?” he finally asks.

It’s the only indication Dean needs to realize he’s understood, and he nods.

A few months later, he opens his new shop.


End file.
